Isabella: A sort of romance by R. A. Bentley

Author:R. A. Bentley [Bentley, R. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2018-07-21T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Yes, I know. I haven't shown you the Bluebell thing. Here it is, finally.

One pin-bright morning, as long ticks and vees of migrating birds pass overhead, Bluebell, feeling restless and unsettled, casts around for a small adventure. Released early from her duties at the stables and riding back along the track to Windy Point she decides on impulse to attempt a circumnavigation of the manor-house grounds, a distance she estimates at some two and a half miles. Turning off across the treeless plain of wind-stunted heather that was her first sight of Tenstone heath she urges her plump little pony to a canter and begins to follow the nearby Manor wall as it rises and falls sinuously with the lie of the land.

Though she cannot know it, these are the dying hours of her true childhood and of the innocent fantasies that have hitherto filled her young mind; images culled from the few films she has been permitted to see, from her treasured collection of books, and from dog-eared copies of the National Geographic Magazine, bought at car-boot sales for ten pence a bundle.

In her imagination, the high, grey wall with its heavy stone coping is no longer an eccentric example of Georgian workfare but the Great Wall of China and she is Genghis Khan, sweeping across the open steppe at the head of an invading horde; and when at length it plunges into that almost impenetrable stretch of neglected woodland known as Finch's Coppice, its crumbling, ivy-clad brickwork is at once transformed into mysterious, jungle ruins and she, in turn, becomes an intrepid female version of Indiana Jones, searching the dripping rainforest for the fabulous jewel or artifact that will seal her fame in the academic world.

Bending low in the saddle to avoid the dangling creepers and overhanging branches she works her way slowly east, following a barely recognisable path through the undergrowth into a place of secret glades and ferny hollows, never before seen by the eyes of a European. Here, in a wonderful stillness – so different from Windy Point – with the first autumn leaves falling softly about her, she eventually dismounts, leading the pony by the reins.

If there is, sadly, no treasure to be found, or even a hidden mineshaft guarded by ancient and devilish machinery, there is still much to fill her notebook and her nature shelf: a number of interesting fungi to identify; a trio of remarkably unconcerned squirrels foraging for beech mast; a tawny owl roosting in a tree, and, half hidden among high bracken, a dead cock pheasant. Alas, it is not nearly fresh enough to use as entry fee to the vicar's wonderful collection, but she keeps a few bright feathers for herself, tucking one into her hair and the rest into the belt of her dress.

Further on is a little, mossy spring, the water flowing a few yards then sinking into the ground again, and nearby – oh wonderful find! – a badger's sett, complete with fresh droppings and discarded bedding.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.